PvP
"What the hell?"
Lee Han-yul snorted as he eyed the weapon drawn by the girl in the bear doll mask. He could gauge her skill level at a glance just from the sword.
Its silver blade, pieced together like delicate fragments of the moon, gleamed blindingly under the sunlight. Only then did Lee Han-yul relax, curling his lips into a smirk.
'Not a big deal after all.'
His own level was a whopping 6,237. Considering how the experience required for level-ups ballooned at higher tiers, the gap between level 4,000 and 6,000 was vaster than heaven and earth—more like the cosmos and the ocean floor.
There was no way he could lose. It was a fight he couldn't lose even if he tried.
"Alright, ready?"
Lee Han-yul grinned brazenly, channeling strength throughout his legs—from his dantian, down his thighs, to his ankles. He planned to end it in one strike. His immense power crushed the asphalt beneath him.
The girl simply stood still, giving only a slight nod. She didn't even assume a stance. She probably hadn't learned the basics of sparring. In VR games where physical motion mattered, Lee Han-yul had drilled fundamental swordsmanship for years at a pro gamer academy.
·····He lowered his posture slightly.
And charged.
Boom!
The ground cracked as he closed the distance in a blink. One downward slash, and it would be over!
Whoosh—
"Huh...?"
The girl twisted her body effortlessly, deflecting the attack. Impossible. Lee Han-yul refocused amid his shock. Good basic reflexes? Was that what she was banking on?
Foolish bravado. Extreme level differences couldn't be bridged. And before the world changed, he'd been a pro gamer in a top team's first string. Pros weren't pros for nothing. It took exceptional talent and grueling effort to bear fruit—and that fruit was now unfolding from his hands.
Slash-slash-slash-slash-slash!
A flurry of exquisite strikes rained down mercilessly. Each one meticulously calculated for optimal trajectory. Unable to withstand the onslaught, the girl soon fell into a defensive scramble.
Lee Han-yul sneered, intensifying the pressure.
"Kuhaha! What's wrong? All that big talk, and that's it?"
His eyes gleamed wildly, lips twisted in manic glee. The girl could only dodge desperately, offering no counter. Even that seemed to strain her.
'No need for skills.'
Lost in his trance of combos, Lee Han-yul suddenly sensed something off.
'Wait... why aren't my attacks landing?'
They seemed so close—just a hair's breadth away. But that tiny gap kept his blade from touching her. It looked like it was slicing, stabbing—but a minuscule margin, so subtle you'd swear it hit if you didn't notice, foiled every swing. His confident strikes cleaved only air.
A chill ran down his spine, cold sweat beading.
'How...?'
He couldn't even predict her movements. Despite dominating space with precise strikes, attacks that should have landed missed. Even in Astria Online, facing countless players—or reaching the finals of a pro tournament by luck—he'd never met anyone like this.
Dodging everything? While wearing that massive bear head?
It stung his pride. That damn bear head bobbed, grating on his nerves. Lee Han-yul stepped back a beat to reset his crumbling stance.
In that instant, her voice slipped through.
"Done already? Then it's my turn."
"What? What the—"
Before Lee Han-yul could retort, her aura shifted. Her grip changed. Her wrist rotated, aligning perfectly with his line of sight. Like cleaving space itself, a razor-thin line slashed the air.
His pupils dilated. His jaw dropped, goosebumps shuddering across his shoulders. That stance—it was the pinnacle no pro gamer, in all his years in the leagues, had ever achieved. The most perfect sword form.
The situation flipped in an instant.
Lee Han-yul could hardly believe it. He was being overwhelmed—utterly. Her swordsmanship was chillingly precise and sharp.
Shh-shh-shh-slash—
Her blade ignored air resistance at perfect angles, silent. Strikes filling every direction poised like living vipers in ideal hunting stance.
"Guh!"
Innumerable slashes tore his flesh. The exquisitely aimed attacks from blind spots were impossible to dodge—or even perceive. The weapon difference kept damage minor, but watching his HP drain like a vortex filled him with dread.
"This is insane!"
Lee Han-yul shuddered. Her speed matched his. Maybe her gear sucked, but her level was close—maybe equal. He had to admit it.
'Creating this gap with identical physical specs!'
At this rate, he'd lose. He abandoned defense, swinging wide.
Clang!
Blades clashed in a clear ring. Expanding air blasted outward. Tension surged through his forearms.
'Damn, this power confirms it—similar level. Same swordsman class.'
Right then, her wrist twisted slightly.
Screeech!
A grating scrape assaulted his ears as her blade slithered up his like a serpent, past his wrist, hurtling toward his throat.
Terrified, Lee Han-yul recoiled. Whoosh— It grazed his neck. Piercing fear swallowed his mind.
And her sword surged again.
Shh-shh-shh-slash!
He couldn't read the trajectories. Block right, and it curved left. Clang! "Hngh!" Even blocking did nothing. Tiny rotations from every joint ignored recoil, forcing hits through.
Terror-struck, Lee Han-yul knew.
'I can't win!'
She was leagues above. No skills used yet—but if she went all out?
He didn't want to imagine. She was already holding back, using a weak sword. Provoke her with a skill?
'I'll die instantly!'
Dizzy with dread, speechless. His stance crumbled. He couldn't hold.
'Someone—anyone—help!'
Then, a killing blade zeroed on his throat.
He couldn't block! Lee Han-yul squeezed his eyes shut.
"Stop!"
A roar shook the air. The death stroke halted millimeters from his neck.
"Gasp!"
Opening his eyes, Lee Han-yul gulped and staggered back, collapsing in a heap as his legs gave out. Support players rushed, dragging him rearward. Jang Jin-cheol slammed his massive shield into the ground, bellowing.
"One more step, and I fire immediately!"
The girl's gaze shifted upward to Jang Jin-cheol. A red-haired woman's staff glowed ominously above. A colossal magic circle, big enough to devour a building, blazed with phoenix-eyed flames.
A job specialized in max firepower in minimal time. Elemental Master's ultimate.
Apocalypse Meteor
Seeing her pause, Jang Jin-cheol smirked inwardly. She'd seen something at Yeongdong Bridge—no way they'd let her live.
'She's just a swordsman. Useless at range.'
He hadn't expected her to crush pro gamer Lee Han-yul. But that was 1v1. Hyeonwol Guild elites here: 12 strong. One was the target, but useful for now.
'Deal with him after.'
No chance for the poor girl.
"······."
The masked girl stayed silent. Probably accepted defeat. That's what Jang Jin-cheol and everyone thought.
Then, she slowly raised one hand. Fist unclenching, index finger pointing skyward.
'What now?'
As puzzled stares fixed on her—
Mana surged around them. Chaotic energy vortexed, condensing at her fingertip. Compressed and refined, it formed under rigid laws.
Temperature skyrocketed. Coalesced mana built a domineering shape. A massive sky-spanning magic circle radiated searing heat, glaring murderously at Hyeonwol Guild.
"Wh-what...!"
Jang Jin-cheol's eyes widened. Guild faces twisted in horror.
She was a swordsman. Had to be.
But from her fingertip bloomed—
Apocalypse Meteor
"······Like this?"
A voice indifferent as space itself. Every face there froze solid.